


Graffiti On A Train

by grimmysquiff



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Accidental Death, Angst, I really am sorry, I'm so sorry, M/M, harry works at a nursery, in case you didn't know, louis love harry a lot, one mention of sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 01:42:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5438840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimmysquiff/pseuds/grimmysquiff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on the song "Graffiti on a Train" by Welsh band Stereophonics </p>
<p>~</p>
<p>
  <em>Oh the graffiti on the train</em><br/>Oh the graffiti on the train<br/>Oh the graffiti on the train<br/>Oh she'll never be the same oh no<br/>Rolled into her life<br/>Oh the graffiti on the train oh
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graffiti On A Train

**Author's Note:**

> oh god i'm so sorry for this but i saw these guys at a gig last week and i was inspired. 
> 
> if you've heard the song - i'm so sorry  
> if you haven't heard the song - then i'm so so so so sorry. 
> 
>  
> 
> DISCLAIMER: NEVER EVER VENTURE OUT ON A RAILROAD. IT IS EXTREMELY DANGEROUS.

Harry fucking Styles. 

Louis had to keep reminding himself why he was currently climbing the drain pipe of a shitty house to get to the roof. Harry Styles. He dug his the toe of his Vans into the last part of the gravelled wall to grip and pulled himself up the roof, letting out a breathless "Fuck!" as he collapsed on the slated edge. He was an idiot, this was true, but once he got the idea into his head he couldn't stop thinking about it. He couldn't think of a better surprise for his giggly, silly, precious boyfriend. The boyfriend who worked long, hard, early shifts at the nursery and deserved the world; the boyfriend who made cupcakes while he sang Beyoncé and pranced in his tiny pyjama shorts; the boyfriend he wanted to be with for the rest of his life. 

He heard the sound of a window opening harshly and a furious voice spoke, "You fucking kids better not be playing on my roof again!"

"Shit!" Louis hissed and scrambled up, adjusting his bag strap and ran to the other edge, jumping to the next one with ease. He just prayed the gaps between them wouldn't get any bigger or he'd be doomed. He couldn't imagine Harry would be pleased with a midnight phone call saying he'd gotten himself stuck on a stranger's roof and needed help to get down. He'd definitely be doomed. 

He jumped three more roofs and could see his goal just up ahead, whooping to himself silently. As he made his way down the pipe of the last house, he could feel the butterflies rise in his stomach. He was really doing this. He'd thought about this for months and he was finally going to do this. 

The thought of Harry's delighted face in the morning would definitely make up for the giant fuck-off fence he was now faced with. Louis groaned loudly, throwing his backpack on the ground with a huff as he searched for something he could use to give him a boost up the fence. He kicked over a few rain-soaked cardboard boxes before finally finding a plastic crate. He prayed it would be enough to hold his small weight. Placing it down on his chosen spot, he shucked his backpack back on and stood on the crate. It creaked in protest and Louis quickly grasped to the top of the fence, pulling himself up and hooking his leg over the side. He grimaced as he looked down over the other side, cursing himself for not thinking it through. Sure, he'll end up with a delighted, giddy boyfriend but he wasn't sure it was gonna be worth it for a broken limb. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, jumping down onto the pavement before stumbling forward. 

"Get in!" He shouted, fist pumping up into the darkness. He'd made it to the railroads. The tricky part was over. 

Louis looked down to the right hand side, seeing two trains laying in the depot. He started to make his way down, strolling down the end of the platform. It was a humid night, the rain had stopped by the time he'd left Harry's flat but the air was thick and the platform and tracks were still wet with rain. He had to be extra careful. 

He made his way to the closest train, inspecting the destination on the front. 

**West Croydon**

This was the train Harry got every morning to work. He'd sifted through Harry's wallet the previous night to check, away from the suspicious glances of his beautiful boyfriend. He knew Harry was very particular about where he sat too. 

_"You get on the same train coach every morning?"_

_"Yep. Coach D."_

_"Yeah you love riding the -"_

_"Louuuu stop! That's vulgar!"_

_"Wanna ride on Louis' Coach D?"_

_"Lou! ... yes."_

He giggled to himself, reminiscing the following encounter. He loved Harry. He truly loved him. He couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life with him. He hummed as he walked down the side of the train, counting out each out of the coaches. Once he reached coach D, he sat down, pulling his thermos of tea out of his bag along with the few cans of spray paint Zayn had let him borrow. He opened his tea and poured some into the cup, sipping on it daintily, the warmth soothing his cold hands and lips. He got Harry to brew it for him before he'd left, reasoning that his "long walk home" wouldn't be worth the trek without his boyfriend's tea. He was a sap really, far too gone for the boy to have any dignity left for himself. 

Louis set his tea down and stood up, picking up a can and standing in front of the train doors. He popped the cap off and shook it, the familiar tinkle of the can inside making him giggle softly. He was really going to do this. He sprayed it experimentally into the air and cursed as the paint covered his fingers, making a mental note to send Zayn an aggressive text in the morning. 

He shook it again and carefully began to spray the first letter of his message onto the door. He let out an excited squeal as the bright paint stained the coach door. It was working! He knew he had to work fast, worrying the rain was going to start again. He quickly scrawled the letters before throwing the can back into his bag, picking up a bright blue to trace around it. Lastly, he grabbed the red can, spraying a giant love heart around the message and finishing off with his signature smiley face in the corner of the door. Harry was going to love this. 

He carelessly threw the cans back into his backpack and picked up his thermos, sipping tea straight from it. He groaned suddenly, realising he'd have to try to work out how to jump back over the fence. He looked out toward the rail track and suddenly came up with a solution. It was only about a mile walk to the next train station and there was a gate he could cut through to walk back to his own flat. It would save him time and avoid any cut knees or scraped hands.

Louis made his way to the front of the train and hopped onto the track, cupping his hands together around the thermos as he began his journey. It would be winter soon, Harry's favourite season. He liked to spoil the little toddlers at his nursery with cakes and brownies and all sorts of other sugary sweets. One year he even got Louis to dress up as Santa, even throwing himself on his knee and asking "Santa" for a boyfriend who would put his own dirty underwear in the laundry basket. Cheeky shit. Harry still hadn't received that. 

He made it down about half a mile before he heard it, stopping him in his tracks. He turned around, praying his mind was playing tricks on him. His face paled and his stomach dropped. The train from the platform was making his way towards him, the front headlights blinding him and the smell of the scraping metal wheels burning his nostrils. The same train he'd sprayed his message to Harry. _Harry._

"No, no, no!" Louis shouted, waving madly at the front of the train, urging him to stop. It was hopeless, there was no way the train would have time to stop, even if the driver did see him. He started to run, hoping it wasn't too far to the next station and that he could make it in time. The sole of his van slid against a plate of the track and he fell straight down, letting out an anguished scream. His bag slipped off during the fall and he left it, choosing again to try and run down the track. He didn't make it far before his stomach was screaming out in protest, his lungs wheezing from panic. He wouldn't make it. 

The lights drew closer, Louis letting out a loud sob as he clung to the wall of the track desperately. Then he thought about Harry. He thought about Harry waking up tomorrow. He thought about Harry sleepily making his coffee in his underpants. He thought about Harry getting ready for work. Maybe he'd put his hair in a bun today. Or maybe he'd wrap it up in one of his stupid floral scarves. He thought about Harry. He thought about Harry's reaction to his surprise. 

He closed his eyes and thought of Harry. 

The cold rush of air hit him first. 

_Harry. Harry. Harry._

-

Harry had slept in today. Usually Louis phoned him in the morning to wake him up as Harry was prone to sleeping past his alarm. He couldn't blame him though, Louis left his flat late last night and he was probably still in bed. Louis was like an adorable hedgehog in hibernation when he slept and the thought made his stomach too mushy and gooey to consider being mad at his woodland critter-like boyfriend. 

He quickly made a cup of coffee, pouring it into a thermal cup and heading out of the flat. He shivered at the bitter cold, pulling the collar of his warm coat up to his neck, nuzzling into softly. It smelt strangely of Louis and it made him feel safe, the familiarity of his lover surrounding him in such a subtle way. 

It was a short walk to train station, the usual commuters already stood at the platform, waiting for the train to arrive. A few people looked up at him as he entered, giving him sympathetic glances that made him feel uneasy. He quickly put a hand on his bun, making sure it was tied right. He'd shoved his freshly showered hair into a bun quickly before he left and hoped he wasn't walking around with hair loose. He frowned, realising his appearance was in order and shrugged off the bizarre looks of other passengers. 

His ears perked up as he listened to the early morning hubbub

"Train's gonna be late this morning. Someone threw themselves on the track. Stupid wanker."

"... he died instantly, I don't know -"

"He didn't make it? Poor lad -"

"They found his bag further down the track. He must've tried to make a run for it."

Harry gasped and took out his phone, opening up his previous messages with Louis. 

**Lou :-( someone died on the train track last night. Might be late to work and late home. Poor thing, I hope it wasn't anyone we knew. Love you, boo x**

He checked the time board and saw his train was, indeed, running late and sat down next to an older couple on the bench and they gave him a soft smile. He smiled back and suddenly felt uneasy, quickly checking his phone to see if Louis had replied. It hadn't delivered yet and his stomach churned with worry. 

He could hear the thump thump of the train making its way down the line, standing up next to the other waiting passengers and getting ready to take his usual seat. 

Coach A...

Coach B...

Coach C...

Coach D...

Harry dropped his coffee cup from his hand, the cup clattering to the floor and the milky, tan-coloured liquid seeping out onto the platform. He clasped both hands to his face as he read the familiar scrawl on the coach doors. 

"I love you.   
Marry me?"

The doors opened and other passengers moved in front of him as tears filled his eyes. _Marry me_. He glanced around expecting Louis to appear on the platform, ready to embrace him in a giant hug and call him a sap - but he was nowhere to be seen. He frowned but the doors started to beep, signalling the train was leaving and he quickly jumped on; moving to sit on his usual seat. 

With fumbling fingers he took out his phone and dialled Louis' number. It rang and rang but no one answered. He tried again and his once excited tears turned into thick sobs of anguish. It couldn't be could it? 

He opened up a local news app on his phone, desperate for any sign of information. 

He knew it. 

_"Someone died here last night."_

His stop came and went but he couldn't bear to move from his seat. He couldn't bring his body to move, his hand clutching his phone and slow trickles of tears running down his cheeks. He couldn't leave this train. 

The train etched with the last message he would ever receive from his lover. 

~

 

_The train sped down the line  
It was the last train he would ride oh no..._


End file.
